


This world isn't for you

by SansyFresh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, CEO AU, Depression, Fluffy Hurt/Comfort, Group Therapy, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Multi, Small mention of suicidal thoughts, Therapy Positive, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:40:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: Sans was so sure Red wouldn't narc on him. Turns out he put his trust in the Literal Devil.
Relationships: Papyrus/Sans (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SteamySpectacles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteamySpectacles/gifts).



> wooo another oneshot ^^ this one has some pretty realistic depictions of depression, so tread cautiously.
> 
> enjoy!

They should have know the first time they were caught at it that, just maybe, Edge was going to eventually find out. The building was no smoking, after all, and no matter the magic tricks Red knew to get the smoke to waft around and keep from setting off the smoke detectors hidden in the little supply closet, the smell of it was unmistakable. No one had said anything so far because Red was the Boss’ brother, and, well, everyone liked Sans.

It wasn’t like there was anything untoward going on in the closet either. There was barely enough room to crouch, uncomfortable and stiff, and get their nicotine hits, let alone try to get freaky at their actual workplace. 

Sure they were breaking the rules, but even they had limits, alright. Didn’t everyone?

But still, they should have assumed that someone was going to get tired of the smell of cigarette smoke, or someone was going to have a reaction, or  _ something  _ was going to happen and the Boss would find out. It was an inevitability. 

Which was why, when they were both called up to the Boss’ office, the surprise felt a bit out of place. Sans glanced toward Red as the two of them stood at their desks, the snotty monster waiting on them to follow them up to the office tapping their foot impatiently. Sans wouldn’t have been surprised if the person who’d told on them had only done so out of an unhealthy amount of respect for the general rules. It wouldn’t have surprised him. 

They padded down the halls and up to the elevator, the monster leading them heading back towards the main rooms with a haughty air. Sans would have bet money they were the narc, but again, he should have known that it was going to happen. 

Edge was the kind of guy that cared about the rules, about others’ health and well being. Not that Sans and Red didn’t, but their own comfort came before what they thought other people might dislike. Work was hard. Living was hard. Smoking helps. End of story.

But as Sans followed Red into the Boss’ office, not bothering to knock before the two of them were inside and standing just in front of Edge’s desk, it was obvious he did not agree with the sentiment. He gestured for them to sit in the two plush chairs in front of him, Red flopping down with abandon as Sans carefully plopped in his own. 

There was silence for a long moment, Sans refraining from rolling his eyes at the sheer dramatics of it. If there was one thing both Fell brothers were good at, it was being dramatic.

Finally, after a long staring contest with an unrepentant Red, Edge glanced over to Sans.

“I have reports the two of you have been smoking in the goddamn supply closet.”

Red snorted. “Uh, Boss, I don’ think yer allowed ta curse on company time.” 

Edge rolled his eyes. “The rule only applies when the party in question is not my own brother.” Then, side eyeing Sans, “Or my lover.”

This time Sans huffed a laugh. “Yeah, pretty sure that’s not allowed either. Nepotism and all that.”

Edge wasn’t smiling, but Sans could feel the ghost of it as he leaned back, arms crossed. “Would the both of you mind telling me  _ why  _ you’ve been smoking in a nonsmoking building?”

Well, right to the point. Sans gave Red a look, one that could only be interpreted as a warning, before lying through his teeth. 

“Red’s been twitchy. Figured it’d help him mellow out.”

By the anger filled intake of breath beside him, Sans needed to hurry and explain a little more thoroughly, before Red got any bright ideas about spilling the metaphorical beans. “Mostly though we’ve just been doing it to relax before big phone calls, hard meetings, that kind of thing.”

The aura coming off Red was indignant surrender, meaning that if Sans played his cards right, he wouldn’t tell Edge the truth just yet. He might tell him at some point, in the far future, but Sans could be halfway to Texas by then. 

Nothing like letting the bones get a good desert sun bleaching. 

Of course, Edge seemed concerned now, rather than angry. It was a dangerous direction, but Sans knew he could get out of this room without anything spilling. 

That assumption ended up being his downfall. 

“Have you been feeling especially anxious?” Edge asked, all full of care and worry. Sans shrugged, grin crooked.

“Not especially, no.”

Red was glaring a hole in the side of his head now. Sans wanted to kick the look off his face but Edge would definitely see  _ that  _ and know something was up. If he didn’t already it’d be a miracle. 

“If you’re having trouble with the more social points in the workload, I can-”

Sans waved him off. “Naw, it’s not the work. The hit just helps a little, it’s no big deal.” His could feel the corners of his grin tensing as both Edge and Red stared at him, looking through him it felt like, to the very depths of his soul. 

“Are you lying to me, Sans?” Edge asked, tone grave. 

And wasn’t that the crux of it. Sans was absolutely lying, spitting out falsehoods like it was poison. He didn’t really care for the brother’s worrying about him, especially over his shitty health, and it was just bad luck that Red had found him that first time.

He’d been having a bad day. Bad week, bad month, whatever, the point was that he was about to fucking break down into tears at his desk and he just needed something to distract him that wasn’t monotonous paperwork. So he’d gone to the supply closet, sat his bony little ass on the carpeted floor, and smoked a damn cig. If he’d shed a few tears, well, Red hadn’t been there soon enough to see them.

He’d shown up right as Sans was about to head back to his desk, taking one whiff of the cigarette smoke and seemingly knowing, just like that. He’d sworn Red to secrecy, but apparently that only extended until Sans outright started lying to Edge’s face about it. 

“He’s gettin’ depressed again.” Red said, plain and simple, and if Sans had an energetic bone in his body he might have thrown himself on Red for the Final Battle. Instead he sat there, boneless and limp as Edge sighed and rubbed the space between his sockets. The feeling of uselessness flooded Sans’ soul, even as Red stood and walked over to Sans, picking him up and flinging him over his shoulder. Damn five inch height difference. 

Edge was already signing their slips for leaving early, the little yellow pieces of paper the bane of Sans’ existence. 

“Take care of him brother. I’ll be home around the regular time, but you two have the next few weeks off for vacation. Don’t squander it.” Edge said, handing Red the two little slips of paper. Sans could only watch, helpless as Red carried him away from a waving Edge, out of the office, and through the halls until they reached the front desk. 

Red handed the receptionist their slips, the tiny huff of air the only thing letting Sans know what she felt about it, before Red was carrying him out the door and through a shortcut back home. 

The couch awaited him, Red setting him down and wrapping him tightly in a quilt before pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his inventory. “Now, do I gotta use these, or are ya gonna be good fer me and stay put?”

If Red was to handcuff him to the couch, using the little latches installed in the back, if Sans tried to go anywhere he’d be taking a large ass loveseat with him. Really, he wasn’t in the mood to run, all of his energy spent now that the nicotine had fled his system at being caught. So he shrugged, staring blankly up at Red. 

He seemed satisfied enough at the answer, putting the handcuffs away and making sure he was wrapped tightly before he headed for the kitchen, walking the entire way. The sounds of a pot of water boiling and the smell of bread toasting soon filled the house, Sans feeling as his mouth began to water even as he settled back further into the couch. His sockets felt heavy, his vision blurring a little when Red finally came back from the kitchen and handed him a little cup of tea and a plate of jam toast. 

His soul didn’t feel hungry, but he ate every bite and drank the entire cup before allowing Red to lay him back onto his lap, gently scratching the edge of his skull. 

It wasn’t long before he fell asleep, darkness filling his vision and leaving him in a dreamless state. He was safe enough; Red wouldn’t let anything happen, not when he was like this.

~.~

Red knew Sans had finally fallen asleep when his face dropped its tense lines, his breathing evening out into long, slow breaths. He continued the scritching, using a bit of calming magic to keep his little lover from having issues with nightmares. 

He’d known Sans was a bit of an asshole, but actually lying to the Boss’ face about falling back into a low was going a bit too far. They’d have to have a talk about that whole thing when Sans was feeling better and wasn’t likely to self eviscerate over it. 

Red grimaced as he looked at the empty plate and cup, wondering just how hard it was for Sans to force himself to eat all of it. Their little Sansy had a difficult time both eating and keeping food down when he was low, so the little bastard was probably still trying to hide how bad it was.

It didn’t really matter, in the long run, since Red and Edge weren’t going to just let him silently suffer until he was wearing longer t-shirts and sitting up on the roof more and more often. No, they’d help him out in the very beginning, no matter what it took to help him feel like he was worth something. 

Edge was due home in around 3 hours, giving Red plenty of time to form a plan and let Sansy sleep a little. Stars knew the asshole needed it, what with the way he’d been “sneaking” out of bed every night to come watch shitty late night TV. Red had caught him at it more than once, sitting on the edge of the couch with the cushions tightly gripped between his fingers, black half circles under his sockets and a blank look in his eyes. 

Then the next morning he’d be in bed beside them, “asleep” and difficult to wake up as ever before Edge had them both up and dressed and out the door. He’d act like he was fine, like everything was all fucking peachy, when Red knew exactly what the signs of a low were by now.

The stupidest shit was the shit Sans tried hardest to hide. Red never understood it, coming from where he and the Boss did, but maybe things in Sansy’s past made it a little too difficult to fully trust someone. Red could respect that. What he couldn’t respect was just straight up lying to Boss’ concerned face. 

He wasn’t alone now. Red and Edge just needed to remind him of that fact. And call Papyrus, because if there was one person that Sans needed to see when he was contemplating the value of life, it was his own brother.

Leaning down, Red left a chaste kiss on the top of Sans’ skull, letting his calming presence of magic flow out and around them both. Sans relaxed further, really settling in for one hell of a nap, and Red would keep watch.

Just like he always did.


	2. Ain't No Mountain High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ain't no valley low
> 
> ain't river high enough, babey
> 
> enjoy ya'll :D mind the tags!!

If Sans was being honest, and he very rarely was, this whole depression thing kinda sucked ass. Sure, the last time that he’d been caught he’d been carefully and gently taken care of, and he didn’t just mean with chocolate kisses and warm blankets.

But no, he still hadn’t learned his lesson, and he had no plans to. It was his fault, and his fault alone that his brain was so fucked up that it thought he had no right to live. Yes he had his loving datemates, and he would give up the whole world for them.

But not even them holding him, late at night when everything seemed quiet and the only noise was the raucous roaring in his own skull… it wasn’t enough to convince his stupid soul that he deserved any of it. His thoughts spun around and around in his head, over and over repeating the facts that not only did he not deserve Edge or Red, but that he should quit his job and dump them both so that they could move on without him. 

He was just so much of a coward that he couldn’t do it.

Not with Red gently caressing his hand under the meeting table, eyelights locked onto the projector screen like a good little assistant, Edge up front and clearly understanding that Red wanted him to hurry up so he and Sans could have a break. The day had been brutal in terms of physical work, musty boxes moved from the basement up to the top levels, bringing out the nearly shredded cardboard into the light for all to peruse and see if they could find the missing paperwork.

Edge was continuing his speech about workplace ethics in terms of not losing your paperwork, and Sans was still having a hard time concentrating as Red gently kneaded the magic between his carpals. It felt really nice, and Sans would miss it, among a million other things, when he left.

Suddenly Red was giving him a sharp look, Sans gazing back coolly even as he started to panic a little. Had Red heard him? Surely not, unless the guy had suddenly developed telepathy in the last five seconds. 

“Boss, Mr. Font and I need ta have a discussion outside. Is that alrigh’?”

Edge gave them both a look, one that promised retribution for the missed time listening to his lecture, before nodding and Red was up and walking out the door, the warmth of his hand missing from Sans’ own. 

Sans sat there for a moment, a little stunned, but stood and shuffled after him, shutting the meeting room door with a soft click. The carpet under his sneakers was soft enough that Red couldn’t hear him as he came up behind, but still Red all but spun around, brandishing what Sans had hoped neither of the brothers would ever find.

“Mind tellin’ me why you had these?” He asked, brandishing a little crumpled up box of cigarettes, the thing nearly empty. If the lack of cigs in it were any indication, the fact that the box had been stashed away in his desk along with a lighter was a bit of a dead giveaway. 

Sans refused to look at him, staring at the wall as he shrugged.

“Oh so you don’t know why there was a box of cigarettes in your desk? Or you don’t know why you hurt so bad that you think you need them?”

It was blunt, put in such a way that Sans flinched even as he glared up at Red, who was staring back at him in nothing but sympathy. 

“Okay, asshole, why don’t you just give me those and I’ll be out of your hair, huh? Wouldn’t that be better, not having to worry about my sad ass?” He spat the words out like venom, but Red didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction… or the damn box of nicotine. Instead he tossed the box into his own inventory, stepped up to Sans to look down into his eyes, and pulled him into a scathing kiss.

“I’ll have you know,  _ asshole _ , that “dealing with you” isn’t something we do.”

Then he directed Sans back to the meeting room, where Edge was finally wrapping up, Sans face warm as everyone glanced over to them, smiling slyly with knowing looks as they dutifully listened to the end of Edge’s rant. 

“And please, please for the love of the Angel, do NOT photocopy things that aren’t paperwork.” he said, dismissing them all as he started taking down the projector.

Sans stood to leave as well, but Red gently grabbed his arm, keeping him from leaving even if he was really desperate to. 

“Not you. You and we need to have a serious discussion.” Edge said, still not looking up from the projector as he unplugged the cords and disconnected his laptop. Had to give the mad credit; he knew how to jazz up a powerpoint. When he was finished he set it all on a cart, then turned to Sans, sheer  _ something  _ in his eyes. Sans couldn’t tell what. All his brain wanted to see was the disappointment, but his still functioning parts of his soul said that there was more to it. Something softer. 

Preparing for the worst, Sans shored up his anger, his bitterness at the world at large, and opened his mouth to give Edge the rebuttal of his life should the fucker say anything about his smoking vice… only for Edge to take two steps forward and, much like Red, plant the most searing, hot kiss on him that he’d ever had.

Once Edge backed away, Sans was left a little breathless, leaning into Red. “What… what was that for?”

Edge just smiled softly. “We need you to know that we love you, depression and all.” He paused, glancing at Red, before continuing. “How would you feel about trying out group therapy? I feel like it could help, both in finding a balance for you and for bringing us together closer as datemates.”

Sans felt his face warm up again, eyes feeling a bit wet as he nodded. “Yeah, I’d be okay with that.”

Something had to give. And if it wasn’t going to be the love he and his datemates shared, well. Guess the lies in his head had to go.

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed, come yell at me in the comments or on my tumblr (freshouttaparsnips) XD


End file.
